


A Mad Dog's Loyalty

by guarden



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29928405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guarden/pseuds/guarden
Summary: Every night, Masuki goes through the same nightmare. The minute her eyes fully close, she's in the same place, surrounded by terrifying creatures made of petrified wood, clawing at her, chasing her, pulling her down, and when she awakes, every scratch and bruise from the dream is there. She had to pick up a gym hobby to explain it all off to her dad. Her escapism throughout the day is all just putting off the inevitability of sleep, and sometimes, when she drums hard and fast enough, she can fully forget it, if just for a moment. One day, she meets a girl in Galaxy, her daily escapism zone, and she isn't much to note on, if only the note that she's kinda cute, in a plain sort of way. But that very night, after just seeing her once, her dreams change for the first time in years.
Relationships: Asahi Rokka/Satou Masuki, Nyubara Reona/Tamade Chiyu
Kudos: 18





	1. Hypnic Jerk

I can't stay up this long. I have to go to sleep at some point. You would think, after mind numbing repetition and a goddamn near routine, I'd be used to it by now. But even as sleep takes me, like some sort of betraying stage curtain slipping on top of me, I feel a gut wrenching dread. Just get through the night, and then you can have another day. Don't let them catch you. 

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK _FUCK!!_ " I shouted, every word rhythmic with my panicked footsteps, pounding like drums across the barely illuminated, cold marble floors. The room I was in had a high ceiling, with various chandeliers hanging from seemingly random areas, barely keeping the entire place alight. Even so, I couldn't see the end of the room, or the walls. I couldn't see anything but the ceiling, the floor, and a thick, misty darkness outstretching infinitely. It was hard to call it a room. I was barefooted and freezing, but covered in a shivering sweat as I ran for my life and limbs, not caring to look behind me. 

I already knew what they looked like. 

Tall, scraggly mistakes of creation, with gnarled knobs and outstretching arms of sharp, calcified wood, and endlessly dark holes that can only pass as faces by their lowest hole letting out a low, unearthly howl. They moved across the smooth floor with loud, ear grating scraping motions, their heavy bodies only pressing forward by the desire to kill. I was alone. So I ran. 

I pause behind one of maybe 20 pillars in a mile radius and catch my breath as my chest heaves painfully, my heart pounding in my ears, my head light and my legs trembling underneath my exhaustion and weight. A mixture of cold, shivering sweat and hot tears mixed on my cheeks and I tried to keep quiet. I got angry at myself. It happens every night. It happens every _single_ night. When will I stop crying?

When will it stop hurting?

I'm too loud, choking on my own fear, and the scraping gets closer. I take off in a random direction, not that it matters, just making space between them. I've never made any progress, seen any sign of escape, not even a change of any sort of scenery. I just ran. I just kept running, angry, afraid, until it's two hours in and I can't run anymore. My legs are shaking, and the scraping is far away. I have maybe 20, 30 minutes until they catch up with me, judging by the echoes. I hold my legs to my chest and breathe shakily, weak, deathly gasps hissing out of my teeth. I stared at the marble floor with animosity, and start pounding it with my fists. My eyes go blurry, and as I keep going the weak, pitiful slapping of my hands on the smooth, imprisoning floor get quieter, until the pain gets far away, until the only thing that prompts me that I'm screaming is the dense, hot burning in my throat. 

I slump weakly, and fall over, feeling just how completely empty this place is. I hear the scraping get closer. I don't move. This happens every night, and I'm so tired. They approach on all sides, or maybe the echoes are just pantomiming a mob. I can't move.   
  
I feel something pulling me like a safety anchor, a hand on my shoulder. 

"GH!--" I sat up with a jerk, looking at the dark, warm figure with his hand on my shoulder. Slowly, an ebbing guilt washed over me, soaked into me. Drowned me.   
"Dad.. I'm sorry, I'm fine, go back to bed, old man." I said, flinching at the raspy coarseness of my voice. "Massu-chan, you were screaming. You almost woke up Fuji-san himself... and your voice is damaged." He always manages to sneak in a gripe with every concern, but I know it's to save his skin and make sure he looks cool. "Bad dream.. the ramen shop burnt down." He stared at me for a moment before busting his gut with laughter, filling the air with his amusement, slapping my bed compulsively as he caught his breath. "GAHAHAHA..! Is that--fuehehe, sorry-- is that all, Massu-chan?" I felt the heat on my face. "Damn you, old man, I'm not a kiddo anymore! An' it wasn't jus' that... I was in the ramen shop. It was... scary." He looked at me. My eyes hadn't adjusted yet, I couldn't see what he was thinking. 

"Sorry to wake you up, old man." I murmured tiredly, feeling irritated at myself for letting my problem become his. He already has enough to worry about. "'s fine, Massu. Does sound scary. But you know, you talk about a nightmare, and you'll never dream it again. Proven home remedy!" he said, with a smile so bright, it was visible in the dark of my room. Or maybe my eyes finally adjusted. "Yeah..." I agreed, quietly. 

It was quiet for a while. Neither of us are good with words. Before long, he just backs away, and mumbles, "G'night." I reply shortly, "Night."

I pretend to sleep for two more hours, at least until my alarm goes off. I set it as early as possible for me, even though I used to hate waking up early. That sort of changes when you have a personal hell waiting for you when you doze off. My eyes blur the clocks luminescent numbers into a conglomerate glowing mess, and I slap the snooze button before properly disabling it. I always manage to do it before actually just stopping the damn thing. 

But there was one good thing to be had, at least now that the sun had risen. It was Galaxy day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE YALL LIKED THIS FIRST CHAPTER, DEFINITELY A WIP, OPEN TO HELPFUL TIPS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!!!! :DDDD


	2. Chasing A High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masuki goes to her good-feeling place to bang out some tunes. But is this just avoiding thinking about everything? Or is it the final thread keeping her together? Either way, no soul on earth could stop her.

The sun rises with a teasing, dreadful slowness during the winter. 

When the clocks set back, and the sun drifts farther away from the mesial crown of the sky, the sun is slower. I lay in bed, and watch with bleary, unfocused eyes as the light lazily pours over my floor, my desk, until, finally, the edge of my bed drips with light. I laid my fingertips underneath it, watching the light curve around the very whorls of my fingerprints, bending over my fingers, a slow, even warmth where the light touched. 

With an effort so egregious I practically felt my spine creak, I swung my legs over the bed. My eyes felt heavy, and went in and out of focus, staring into my pajama pants. The very crosshatching of the fabric, playing tic tac toe with my eyes, but there aren’t any opponents. It’s just me. 

It’s always been me. 

I’m always so careless and rough with myself in the morning. I tear through my hair impatiently with a brush, a low, dense stinging ringing from my scalp that wakes me up a little. The faster I go, the easier it gets to move forward. I throw in one of many (maybe… twelve?) identical black cropped shirts on, and a nice pair of flowing, pleated pants. They whoosh as I walk and, it’s a bit stupid, but it makes me happy. I also throw on my jacket, but it’s so second nature, I don't even make a mental note of it. 

“Goin’ out, pops!” I call behind me. “Uh huh.” I hear him answer tiredly. “Instant meals in the long cabinet! Eat something besides ramen for once, you still need to pay bills!” I call playfully, halfway out of the door. I hear a distant thump and grumbling, and snort to myself before heading out. I held my helmet under my arm and triple checked for my license in my inner jacket pocket. There’s no reason for me to get pulled over, never has been, but sometimes looking like a delinquent is all you have to do. 

I checked my phone for the first time since I woke up, and saw that Chu2 blew it up with future week practice schedules. I skimmed, and thanked the lord today’s practice was in the afternoon. I wanted some solo practice to wake me up before I had to go in today. I wanted to feel that healthy, burning strain in my arms, the tingling lightness and dizziness of a rushing high. Slam shit around until I couldn’t see. I was grinning like an idiot, cutting and jumping across the apartment building stairs over the rails trying to get outside faster. I ducked under one of my neighbors, ole Miss Furutani, as she held out a long pot of flowers.

“Gah! Sorry Furutani-san!” I said over my shoulder, and she just laughed and said, “Go on, early bird, get your worm!” She’s a dear. I bound out of the door, and hop on my motorcycle so eagerly it pitches to the side slightly. I quickly turn the key and cut into the road like a bat outta hell. I stay under the speed limit, but just barely, and get excited when I finally turn onto the main city streets. Whizzing past cars waiting in traffic until I am behind the first car in line, and curving gently onto the side of Galaxy, roughly kicking the kickstand and heading down the stairs.

I check in with the lady at the front, someone who's been a friend of my dad’s for a long enough while for me not to remember a new years party without her, saying good morning before heading into the practicing room. 

There is damn near nothing better than beating into the skin of a drum. The vibrations travel into your knuckles, your arms, your entire body, and you can just beat the living hell out of it and still be considered an artist. I did some improvised nonsense, starting off with an even beat that slipped over to the hi-hat every now and then, before slowly deepening my usage of the kick, until I worked myself into a fast frenzy of motion and rhythm. 

I could hear people playing with me in my head. It’s a fantasy that’s a bit embarrassing to admit to, but whenever I get worked up like this, I can almost hear people playing alongside me. Keeping up with me. No, more than that. 

Challenging me. 

I felt my lungs go short of air, the mixture of adrenaline, exhaustion, and lack of sleep driving me up a sickening high as I increased my speed to the climax of this fantasy song. As I slowed down for the effect, and lifted my hands to slam on the crash and ride cymbals for a grand finale, my eyes went fuzzy and dark, and I felt my back hit the floor before I knew I was out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAaAAAAAAAAAA SO MUCH ATTENTION THIS EARLY?????????? WAAAAAAA TYY


	3. Midday Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masuki is timidly awoken by one of Galaxy's employees, and sleepily mutters some embarrassing shit, but unfortunately doesn't realize it until she's out of the building. She'll just have to proceed to the studio, boiling in self hatred and agony.

“Hello…? Are you okay…? Are you…. Alive?” A timid voice called out to me. I felt the cold floor under me and opened my eyes slowly. I saw a blue haired girl poised over me, a concerned look twisting her cute face with worry. She had bright green eyes, that were insanely round and cute looking, thick framed glasses balancing on her nose. I sat up with a smooth, slow motion, and concentratedly leaned towards her. She looked a bit more worried as I got closer. 

“You’re…. Kinda cute.” I muttered under my breath. I stood up, and walked out, vision still a bit fuzzy. I apologized for my overstaying to the lady outside, rubbing my eyes. It was only until I sat myself on my motorcycle that I realized what I did. I grabbed my face roughly and my eyes widened with embarrassment and remorse. “GAAAH!!” I groaned to myself, doubling over on the bike. God fucking damn it, Masuki. You can’t just call random girls cute and leave them! God, you must be sleep deprived. 

I tried to brush off the memory repeatedly, but it just kept making my face flinch and cringe just thinking about how weird I must have been. I stopped at a red light, and slipped in some earbuds and put my playlist on shuffle. It’s a surprising mixture of cute, fluffy jpop and hard, screaming jrock. I checked my street, and mentally routed the way to Chu2’s studio. I went two blocks to the left and 5 straight ahead before I pulled to the side and went in. 

Practice went as usual, I got new sheet music and the DJ parts in the form of an mp3, began the muscle memory memorization, got the basics down already. Chu2 regularly reminds me I’m going faster paced than the recording. I don't do good with those. Says something about being 5 beats per minute faster, like I know what that means. I just get too hyped up. I try not to back-sass her though. She may be a bit blunt and even a bit whiny at times, but she’s got crazy talent and determination that I haven’t hardly seen anybody replicate. Except for maybe Pareo and Layer, but that’s why they’re on the band. They’re all wonderful, endlessly talented people who constantly create amazing things. 

I know I’m good too, but I’m not sure if I have the same attitude as them, and it seems obvious. Pareo’s having the most fun, and loves helping Chu2 the whole way. Chu2 has some sort of revenge plan against another band, and Layer is just a wonderful singer who wants to make amazing music. At least, I think so. I haven’t asked her yet. I haven’t talked to anyone else why they started, or even still do chase after this dream. 

A big part of me genuinely wants to ask, because although it’s wonderful playing with them, it feels… aimless. Like I’m doing it just to do it. Like I do everything else in my life. I don't want to just do things anymore. I just--

“MASKING!! UNDER BEAT!!” Chu2 shouts from the intercom

“Ah!” I reply, and pick it up, going deeper into the basic rhythm of the song. Shit. I can think later. I have shit to take care of now. 

It was late when I got home that night, and I saw that Pops was already asleep. I closed his door quietly, and smiled to myself at his snores. I wonder if I do that too? 

I already know what I have to do tonight. Go to sleep, run, fight, outwit, wake up, repeat. Until somehow, these things go away. 

If they go away. 

Resigning myself to sleep is hard. Even as I feel my eyes shudder and slip, there’s a part of my consciousness keeping me wide awake. I try not to think about this part all day, but it’s still there when I get home. No matter how many times I change my sheets, my clothes, my eating, it’s always the same. The consistency is more imprisoning than it is comforting. Still, my body shuts down the same. 

I sit up on the marble floor, feeling a pillar behind me. I don't hear the monsters or scraping yet. I might have an hour of peace before they eventually hound me out. I sigh, and rest my head against the pillar. It feels different. Smoother. I stand up, and my eyes widen at the glass casket laying on the stone pedestal. Inside, lays the girl I saw at Galaxy today, her hands folded gently across her chest, eyes restfully closed, and her lips gently parted with gentle breath. She’s…. mesmerizing. But more than that. 

The dream has changed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE YALL ARE DOING GREAT!!!!


End file.
